12 Months of Malfoy
by LoveBugOC
Summary: It takes 12 months of living with the egotistical, pompous prat to realize she sort of...likes it. One-Shot made into a Two-Parter.
1. Months One to Six

Hello friends! I've found some time and decided to post again!

You might remember a little fic called 365 Days of Granger.. Well this isn't a sequel, per say, but it's the same kind of idea. [Same idea. Different storyline. Different moments.] It was also meant to be a one-shot, but it was really long so I split it into two parts.

Enjoy!

Leave a comment or two if you please :)

* * *

><p><strong>12 Months of Malfoy<strong>

_It takes 12 months of living with the egotistical, pompous prat to realize she sort of...likes it._

X

**One**  
><em>April-Day 4<em>

She looks at him from across the tent. He's sitting on the ground, leaning against one of the large wooden posts holding the large white tarp above their heads. His legs are bent at the knees, his elbows on top of them and his head is buried in his hands. His usually perfect blond hair is messy and stringy, like he hasn't washed it in ages, and he's wearing an old pair Converse shoes, a pair of muggle jeans, and a black t-shirt. The blazer he had been wearing just moments ago is lying in a heap at his feet. Draco Malfoy is wearing muggle clothing.

Hermione glances back at Harry and Ron, who are also staring-glaring, rather-at the one before them, their arms crossed over their chests. They aren't at all happy with her for insisting they let him come along with them. The only reason Harry agreed was because, ultimately, Malfoy is the only reason she's even alive.

She'd gone looking around the woods for supplies when a Snatcher had spotted her and she'd began to run, casting hexes blindly behind her in the hopes of getting rid of him. Her legs were sore and her lungs were burning but she kept running, jumping over rocks and logs littering the forest floor, swerving around tree trunks and bushes. Just as it seemed that she had lost him-the Snatcher, a hand had wrapped itself firmly around her wrist, completely out of nowhere, and tugged her sideways. Before she could scream, or even react at all, another hand clamped over her mouth as her capture's body pinned her to the tree.

Her eyes were wide with shock and fear as she looked into the face of her capture only to see a familiar pair of grey eyes staring back at her, silently telling her to keep quiet. She nodded once, and kept her eyes trained on his face. And then a voice-his voice-yelled out a spell she'd only ever heard of before. Sectumsempra. Out of sheer panic she'd closed her eyes, awaiting the pain of being torn to shreds. But the pain didn't come.

He'd cursed the Snatcher.

Seconds later he was dragging her through the forest back to her camp, where she proceeded to tell Harry and Ron what happened and only narrowly managed to convince them that he meant them no harm. At least, that's what she hoped.

Moments later, Harry and Ron step outside the tent to talk, leaving Hermione alone with their old school enemy. Their rival. A man who, up until recently, it seems, has been on the opposing side of this war for his entire life. A man who had just saved her life.

"Thank you," she says suddenly, her voice soft so as not to startle him, for he looks to be in deep thought.

His gaze snaps up to her face, and she finds herself staring into those grey orbs once more. They're familiar, though they aren't at all how she remembers. They used to be cunning and calculating and mischievous. Taunting and unforgiving. Now they're just tired, dead, dreadful. Like they've seen too much for a life this young.

He shakes his head. "Don't thank me, Granger."

X

_Day 30_

He's sitting inside the tent when she walks in, leaving Harry and Ron sitting outside in the grass. He doesn't speak. He doesn't eat. And he only leaves the tent to relieve himself.

He's but a shadow of the egotistical, pompous, rude Slytherin she remembers.

She looks at him carefully, hesitantly, before sitting at the table across from him. He looks at her, nods once, and then looks back down at the table. "Are you okay?"

He smirks, but it isn't as menacing or taunting as it used to be. It's sad. Disappointed. "What do you think, Granger?"

She frowns-but then what was she expecting, exactly? "Do you need anything? Are you hungry? Or thirsty?"

"No. No. And no. And even if I was, I can take care of it myself."

She considers him, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. "Can I ask you something?"

"Can't promise I can give you an answer," he mutters.

"What are you doing?"

"Absolutely nothing."

She rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean. Why are you here? Wandering the woods, instead of at home..."

He looks at her, staring blankly at her face. "I'm here because I was wandering the woods. I was wandering the woods because I left home. And I left home because...well, I'm sure I don't have to tell you."

"Why did you save me?"

He smirks, shaking his head. "You're Hermione Granger. You and Saint Potter are the only bloody shot this world has."

X

**Two**  
><em>May-Day 7<em>

"I think we need to move camp again," Harry says suddenly, looking up from his latest copy of the Daily Prophet. It's rubbish, but he can't help it.

Hermione looks up from her book, Ron looks up from the radio in his hands and Malfoy just looks up. "Where do you want to go?"

"I dunno, I was hoping you had somewhere in mind."

"Well, I do, but..."

"We just can't stay in one place for too long, Hermione. We need to keep moving."

"Okay, yeah. We'll move in the morning."

Silence falls between all four of them. Hermione glances at Malfoy as he pushes himself to his feet and brushes off his trousers.

"I'll sit watch," he murmurs, leaving the rest of them inside. She watches his form outside the tent as he sits against one of the wooden posts, resting his head back.

X

_Day 26_

Hermione glances at the book in her hands as she walks back into the tent. She's just finished her latest novel and come inside to grab another when she sees Malfoy lounging on his back on his makeshift bed. He's staring at the ceiling, his hands raised, resting on his chest as he twirls a ring around his index finger. She recognizes it as his family ring.

She frowns. He hasn't so much as mentioned his family since he got here. Curiously, she ventures towards him. "Malfoy."

"Granger," he drawls.

She looks down at her book, and then back at him. "Here," she says softly, pushing the book in front of his face.

He looks at it. "Gee, thanks."

"Take it," she tells him when he doesn't grab it from her.

He sighs, pushing himself into a sitting position. He looks at her skeptically. "Why?"

She shrugs casually. "It's just a book, Malfoy. It helps me escape for a little while, you know? I thought you could use one too."

He takes the book, flipping it over as he inspects it. "What's it about?"

"Read it and find out."

He smirks, rolling his eyes as he lies back down.

The fact that he cracks the book open, almost immediately, pleases her.

X

**Three**  
><em>June-Day 17<em>

She sighs softly, tossing and turning as she tries to find a comfortable position. There isn't one, it seems, as she's been trying to find one for hours. Needless to say, she can't sleep. She groans inwardly, pushing herself into a sitting position. She pushes her hands through her messy hair as she looks around the room. Harry is asleep in his bunk. Ron is asleep is his.

Draco's is empty on account of the fact that he's sitting watch outside. She peers towards the entrance, and through a crack in the door flap she catches a glimpse of the fire. Pushing herself to her feet, she grabs the throw blanket from the foot of her bed and wraps it around her shoulders. She tip toes through the tent, sneaking outside quietly.

He looks at her, his grey eyes shining in the flickering fire light as he pokes one of the logs with a stick.

"Hey," she whispers, joining him by the fire. She crosses her legs pretzel style, leaning back against the trunk of tree he's settled under.

He yawns graciously. "Granger."

"You can go inside if you want, get some rest. I can't sleep anyway."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep even if I tried," he mutters.

Silence falls between them. She shifts on the hard ground to find a comfortable position-of which she doesn't find here, either. He picks at the grass absentmindedly, tossing the blades into the fire.

She watches him out of the corner of her eye. His pale face practically glows in the fire light and his hair glimmers. His skin makes him look so fragile, like porcelain or glass. Sort of perfect. His eyes, too, sparkle in the fire light, the silver specs in his otherwise grey pools reflecting the light beautifully.

The silence is comfortable, she realizes, and yet she wants to fill it. Her curiousity gets the best of her. "How are your parents?" she asks softly.

He looks sideways at her for a moment. "I wouldn't know. Haven't seen them in months, since before I found you."

"Do you miss them?"

"I miss my mother," he admits, blinking rapidly as he looks back into the fire.

"Why did you really leave? Surely you'd be safer there..."

He shrugs. "I stopped believing in the lies they've been telling me my whole life. Safe isn't exactly the word I would use though... Besides, if I went back now, He would kill me for leaving. I'm safer any place else but there."

She nods understandably, looking away from him into the fire.

"What about your parents?"

She smiles sadly, wiping a tear from her cheek with the corner of her blanket. "My parent wouldn't even recognize me if they saw me," she whispers, pulling her legs up to her chest. She can feel him watching her. "I obliviated their memories of me, and magic, and they've since moved to Australia. The further they are, the safer."

"You miss them." It isn't a question. It's a statement. A fact.

"Yeah. I miss them."

X

_Day 28_

Dressed in one of her father's old University shirts and a pair of cut-off jean shorts, Hermione makes the short trek to a small river near the campsite. It feels like it's been ages since she last washed-although in reality she knows it's only been a few days. She looks down the small incline and is surprised to see Malfoy already occupying the water. She freezes next to a pile of his clothes, allowing herself to stare after him. It doesn't hurt to look, after all.

He's standing hip-deep in the water with his back is to her, mildly tanned from the last few days of sun. She can see the outline of his muscles in his back and his arms-toned from Quidditch, she muses. Her gaze falls to his hips, narrow and lean, disappearing into the water. The water is high enough to cover his arse, but low enough to leave little to the imagination. He's fit, she must admit. It's no wonder the girls fawned over him at Hogwarts.

He begins to turn and she panics, rushing to make it look like she hasn't been watching. She automatically drops her belongings-a towel, soap and hair products and a change of clothes-at her feet and pretends to organize them.

"Granger," he calls.

She looks up, waving awkwardly as he smirks back at her. "Hey, I was just-"

"Admiring the view?" he teases.

"I was just waiting," she replies quickly, shifting uncomfortably.

"Right. Throw me my towel?" he asks, lifting his arm to catch them.

She blinks, trying to erase the image of his six pack out of her mind, as she picks up the towel and throws it at him. He catches it with ease and she laughs. "Nice catch."

"Nice throw."

They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before he speaks and breaks the silence. "You gonna turn around?"

"Oh, right. Sorry," she mutters, blushing as she turns around quickly. She buries her face in her hands in embarrassment, shaking her head as he silently berates herself. She should've waited. Had she waited just five more minutes none of this would've happened. Now all she can think about how awkward it's going to be with Harry and Ron...

His voice startles her then, but not as much as his breath on her neck. "It's all yours."

"Thanks," she croaks.

And then he's walking away, dressed in nothing but trousers with his towel and shirt hanging over his shoulder.

X

**Four**  
><em>July-Day 6<em>

Reading is like therapy for her. It's like being in a different world. She's able to immerse herself so passionately into the storyline of whatever novel, that she's able to forget about her own world. Her own war. She was telling the truth when she told Draco that reading provided her with an escape.  
>She makes sure to take an hour of everyday to read something, anything. It's the only thing keeping her sane.<p>

The sound of footsteps coming towards her pulls her out of that world and back into her own. She looks up to see Draco hovering for a moment before sitting down next to her, the book she lent him in his hands. She smiles softly. "Did you finish? What'd you think?"

He nods, smirking casually. "It was pretty good."

"There's plenty more where that came from if you want them," she replies.

"Can I?"

"Of course." She smiles, reaching into her little bag next to her, with the extension charm, and pulls out a stack of them.

He chuckles softly, rolling his eyes. "Only _you_would bring along a library, Granger."

She can't help but laugh too, before diving into conversation with him on art and literature. A debate, of sorts, about genres and authors. Over his shoulder she can see Ron watching them.

X

_Day 14_

"I love you."

She isn't at all surprised by the admission. She is, however, surprised by the time and place.

She looks across the tent at Ron. His eyes are filled with so much passion and emotion. It breaks her heart. Many months ago she might've jumped on him, snogged him, professed her own love for him. But things are different now. She isn't sure she feels the same way anymore.

She isn't even sure if what she felt was actually love or just...comfort. Stability.

She continues to stare at him and she can tell by the panicked look in his bright blue eyes that he's beginning to worry. To have second thoughts. She takes a deep breath, smiling weakly. "Ron...I'm flattered, honestly. I-I don't even know what to say."

"Say you'll be with me," he whispers.

"We can't," she whispers back, shaking her head sadly. "We need to focus, Ron. We need to keep our heads on straight."

He nods, visibly disappointed as he shoves his hands into his pockets. "Right. Yeah. I agree." He offers her a pained smile in an attempt to show her he's okay with it.

She smiles back before he turns around and leaves the tent to find Harry. Just as he walks out, Draco walks in. He pauses, his blond hair falling into his face. Somehow she knows he heard everything. And for some reason, she's sort of glad.

X

_Day 25_

She watches the water trickle down the river bed. Watches the flowers blow softly in the wind. Listens to the leaves rustling in the very same wind. She hears foot steps behind her, slow but calculated. They're Draco's. After four months of living with him (and even longer with Harry and Ron) she's been able to decipher the differences between their footsteps (among other things.) Harry's are always quick, almost rushed and urgent. Ron's are heavy, with purpose. Draco's are softer, like he's gliding across the grass.

He sits down next to her, bending his legs at the knees and resting his elbows on top. He looks at her quickly before following her gaze the water.

She likes the way the sun reflects off the water, making it look like a sheet of crystals. She likes the way the water reflects off his skin, making it look even more like glass.

"You shouldn't feel bad for what you said the other day, to Weasley," he tells her casually.

She peers sideways at him for a moment before looking back to the water.

"You made a decision based on your feelings. He can't be mad at you for that, and if he is then he's a bigger arse than I thought."

"You were eavesdropping," she acknowledges.

"You were talking inside a _tent_, Granger. The walls aren't exactly thick."

"Right, well, anyhow...you're wrong."

"About what?"

"I have every right to feel bad. I...when all of this started we were sort of...together. We were unofficial, but were together. And then he left and ever since he got back it's like there's this weird, awkward tension between us," she admits, out loud, for the first time.

"Well then it's not your fault the Weasel wigged out," he points out.

"Well, no, but..."

"But nothing, Granger. He made his decision and you made yours."

X

**Five**  
><em>August-Day 10<em>

"I want to talk to Luna's father," Harry tells them.

She's shocked. She glances at Ron, who looks at her questioningly, and then at Draco, who's staring at Harry like he's mad.

"Why Luna's father, Harry?" she asks softly.

"Because he's lost his marbles," Draco mutters.

Harry rolls his eyes. "That drawing you found in the book, Hermione. Mr. Lovegood was wearing a necklace with the exact same mark. He'd have to know what it stands for."

"I dunno, mate," Ron replies skeptically.

"C'mon, he's on our side-you've read the Quibbler."

"Harry-" she tries.

"Potter's right. We've got nothing to lose," Draco says, looking at her.

She blinks, staring at him. "Okay. Yeah, we can go tomorrow."

Harry grins. Ron looks between them skeptically.

"I can't go, though."

"Why not?" Hermione asks softly, confused.

"Nobody can know I'm with you lot-not yet anyway. I'll wait nearby and meet up with you after."

She nods-

"No. No way-"

"Ron-"

"Do you have a problem with me, Weasley?" Draco taunts.

"As a matter of fact, I do. I don't trust you-"

"Ron-" Hermione tries again.

"Well that's a relief, because I don't trust you either-"

"Stop it!" Hermione shouts, pushing herself between them. "You're acting like children."

"He started it," Draco taunts, smirking down at her.

She almost laughs, rolling her eyes. "Look, just...we're on the same side. We should be working together," she says, speaking more to Ron than anyone.

"And how do you know that, huh? That he's really on our side?" Ron asks her.

"Because I trust him," she admits. "Just...give him a chance, Ron. It's the only choice we have."

X

_Day 13_

"He's just desperate Ron. They've got his daughter," Harry replies softly, understandably, to Ron's outburst after they'd disapparated into the forest near the Lovegood home.

They've just been attacked by Death Eaters.

"Where's Malfoy?" Ron demands. He's practically glowing red. "He's supposed to be-"

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

All three of them whip around to find themselves surrounded by snatchers. They look at one another, exchanging the same silent thought: RUN. And so they run.

"What are you standing around for? Snatch 'em!" the leader yells.

And then they're running faster. And faster. A sense of deja vu washes over her as she jumps over logs and ducks under branches. She nearly falls after tripping on a tree root but Ron is quick to help her, catching her so she doesn't fall and pushing her along.

Where's Malfoy?

Her eyes widen in fear and she skids to a stop when two more snatchers, adding to the four already chasing them, appear in front of them. On instinct, she spins around and fires a stinging hex at Harry's face. The only way to save them, is to disguise him.

They are immediately detained; Ron is pushed to the ground, Harry stays on the ground and Hermione gasps as a snatcher's arm curls around her neck. The leader comments on Harry's face before asking her who she is.

"Penelope Clearwater," she replies smoothly. "Halfblood."

Merlin, where's Draco?

Ron's growl of "slimy bastard" pulls her out of her head and follows his-and everyone else's-gaze to see Draco Malfoy emerging from behind a tree to her right.

"Well done boys," he drawls, his hands shoved into the pockets on his robes.

She watches him in confusion. And disappointment.

The leader looks at him. "You're the Malfoy boy. The traitor," he spits.

Draco smirks. "Traitor? Is that what they're calling me?" he wonders casually.

"Among other things."

"Well, they're wrong. I've been tracking Potter for months now. Secretly," he sneers. She watches his gaze as it glides across them all and lands on her for a fraction of a second before glaring once more at the leader. She's no longer disappointed or afraid.

"Oh yeah? Why hasn't anyone been told then?" the leader questions, folding his arms over his chest.

"Because it was top secret. You-know-who trusted me, and only me, with this task on account of the fact that I...regrettably know the so-called 'Golden Trio'. If we were to tell anyone else, it would've compromised the entire mission," Draco lies easily.

"Hmmm. How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Draco shrugs. "You don't."

"Let's take them back then, to _your _Manor. If this is Potter then surely-"

"It isn't Potter," he denies.

"You just said-"

"I said I've been tracking them, yes. I never said it _was_ them," he clarifies. "Besides, look at him. Potter's ugly, but he's not _that_ ugly."  
>Almost immediately after he says it, Draco whips out his wand and disarms the leader and a fight between them and the snatchers breaks out.<p>

X

_Day 14_

Having just settled into number 12 Grimmauld Place with the boys and the rest of the Order, Hermione decides it's about time to wash up. She's covered in dirt and mud and a little bit of her own blood from fighting with the snatchers in the forest. All four of them had managed to get to the same side, standing among one another side by side, and in one swift movement they'd grabbed hold of her, allowing her to apparate them all to safety. Leaving the snatchers behind.

They've since settled into Harry's godfather's house, and furthermore, into their own bedrooms. Well, Harry and Ron are now sharing a room with Seamus and Dean while Draco and Hermione each have their own.

She grabs a change of clothes out of her bag before making her way to the bathroom on her floor of the house. Upon arrival, she finds that it's already occupied by Draco. She bites her lip, leaning against the doorframe as she allows herself a few moments to consider him.

His blond hair is unkept and dirty, almost a darker blond colour. His shirt is ripped and torn in some places and his trousers are dirty. His skin is about the only part of him that isn't a mess.  
>She watches him with baited breath has he splashes water onto his face before leaning heavily against the edge of the sink, gripping it hard with his hands. He looks at himself in the mirror, and he must see her too because he looks at her over his shoulder before turning around completely and leaning his bum against the sink.<p>

She smiles softly. "Thank you."

He smirks, shaking his head as he crosses his arms over his chest. "You doubted me."

She shakes her own head. "I didn't doubt you. I was just wondering what the hell was going through your head."

"I was stalling."

"I know."

He takes a deep breath, rolling his head on his shoulders. "That's gonna get back to my parents...to Him. I'm as good as dead the next time they see me."

"I won't let that happen," she replies strongly.

He raises his eyebrows. "And _how_will you manage that?"

"I'll fight for you. Just as you've fought for us," she says softly.

A tiny hint of a smile graces his lips. "Thanks, Granger."

"Just so you know, Harry and Ron thank you too. Harry will admit it, eventually. I'm not so sure about Ron though," she admits.

He chuckles softly, rolling his eyes as he pushes himself away from the sink. "Bathroom's all yours," he whispers as he slips past her. Before he leaves, however, he turns back to her, resting his shoulder on the frame. "That's the second time I've saved your pretty little arse, Granger. You owe me."

Pretty little arse…

X

**Six**  
><em>September-Day 5<em>

"Your friends don't trust me," he tells her, glancing over the top of his book at her.

She looks at him, tilting her head to the side in disappointment as she closes her own book. "I think Harry and Ron are coming around. They're a bit slow, but-"

"Not them, you're other friends. Finnegan and Thomas."

She sighs, frowning slightly as she leans back in her chair in the library. "I know. They just don't know you like we do-"

"-_you_don't know me like you think you know me," he points out.

"I know you well enough to know that I can trust you. You just...we have to give them time, you know? You have to earn it," she says softly.

He groans, rolling his eyes. "If getting them to trust me means I have to save their arses too, you can forget it. I'm not some sort of Gryffindor savior, Granger," he tells her grumpily.

She laughs softly, rolling her eyes as she goes back to reading her book.

X

_Day 24_

She's beginning to suffer from anxiety.

It's been days since Draco, Seamus, Harry and Ron had gone on the latest mission, leaving her, and a number of other Order members, behind. She's beginning to worry. Beginning to fear the worse. What If something's happened to them, and they can't call for help? What if they're in danger and can't do anything? What if they don't come back?

She's been seriously contemplating trying to find them. Trying to help them. In fact she's just finished speaking to Dean about it when, as if on cue, the boys return. Seamus walks in first, followed by Harry and then Ron, who's carrying something large over his shoulder-Draco's unconscious body.

Ignoring the fact that all four of them are covered in dirt and soot, Hermione throws herself at them. Seamus pulls her back, holding her around the shoulders as Ron rushes to the couch and lies Draco's body on down as he calls for his mother.

"What happened?" she asks. When nobody answers, too busy rushing around to get supplies to help heal the wounded man, she tries again. Panicked. "What happened to him?"

Seamus goes on to explain to her how Draco jumped in the way of a curse that was aimed at his back an saved his life. He sounds partly relieved and grateful, and also sort of shocked. "Guess I owe him my life now, huh? Or at least a year of it..." he jokes.

Hermione smiles softly, watching as Molly Weasley tends to Draco's wounds, knowing that Seamus has _no idea_what he'll owe Draco in the near future.

X

_Day 29_

She hears the bed sheets rustle, pulling her attention away from her book as she looks up to see Draco stirring in his bed. She sits up straight, placing her book on the bedside table.

His eyes flutter open and he groans groggily, shifting on the uncomfortable mattress to find comfort.  
>She hands him a glass of water, helping him to take sip.<p>

When his thirst is quenched, he lays back, tilting his head to look at her. "How long have I been out?"

"A few days," she tells him, adjusting the sheets over the bed. "You've been on healing potions ever since. Do you remember what happened?"

He chuckles, rolling his eyes at himself. He is clearly inebriated by those potions at the moment. "Yeah. I became the Gryffindor savior I said I wouldn't be," he mutters, almost bitterly.

She giggles softly.

"It's not funny, Granger. You Gryffindors need to learn to watch your own backs."

Hermione rolls her eyes playfully, but puts that thought in the vault in the back of her mind. She watches him stare up at the ceiling as he twirls his family ring around his finger once more.

"You know, two years ago I hated the lot of you," he murmurs suddenly breaking the silence between them. She looks at him curiously, wondering why he's telling her something she already knows. "Now I'm like the bloody Gryffindor whisperer. Pathetic."

"Oh c'mon it's not that bad," she giggles.

"_You're_not that bad. The jury's still out of the others."

"I'm so sure..." she trails off sarcastically.

When she turns to leave moments later, to let him rest, he calls her back, telling her has a favour to ask of her. She turns back to him and he lifts his hand, waving her over. She walks back to the side of his bed and his fingers wrap around her wrist, pulling her down so that her face is closer to his. She sucks in a deep breath sharply.

"Kiss me," he whispers, his grey eyes boring into hers.

She hesitates, her eyes shifting from his eyes to his thin, pink lips and then back. He cocks his head to the side mischievously. And then she does, closing the gap between them slowly, pressing her lips against his softly. His lips are warm against hers, soft and smooth. He deepens the kiss, moving his lips against hers while curling his free hand around the base of her neck.

When she leaves, seconds later, she reminds herself that he's under the influence of a number of healing potions.

X


	2. Months Seven to Twelve

**Seven**  
><em>October-Day 14<em>

There's something about the way her fingers glide across the keys, producing beautiful sounds of music, that calms her. Next to reading, playing the piano has always been an escape. It allows her to dive into another world-another universe-and just get lost. It brings her peace and concentration and hope. It brings her back her piece of mind, if only for a little while. 

She plays the piano in Sirius' old music room when reading her books just doesn't cut it. This is one of those days. 

She doesn't hear the door open and close behind her, not does she hear the soft footsteps walking towards her until Ron sits on the bench next to her. She's in the middle of a song, so he just sits there and watches. Out of the corner of her eye she sees a hint of a smile grace his lips as he watches her fingers move across the keys with ease. She remembers trying to teach him how to play, how clumsy and heavy his fingers were compared to hers. He insisted he just wasn't graceful enough to play. She told him all it took was a little bit of practice. 

When she finishes, she closes her eyes for a moment before she turns her friend, smiling softly. And then he's playing, the best he can anyway, with her and she's guiding his hands and his fingers, congratulating him when he gets it right and giggling softly when he gets it wrong. 

Minutes turn into moments which turn into a little over an hour before they get up to leave. She's tired, wants to rest. He stops her on her way out, pulling her back gently by her arm. The way he looks at her resembles that of the way Draco looked at her days before. She sees grey eyes looking back at her instead of blue. 

"I miss spending time with you," he whispers, resting his shoulder against the door frame. 

She smiles softly. "So do I." 

And then his face is getting closer and his eyes are closed and his arm is curling around her waist. His lips touch hers for a fraction of a second before she moves her face away and pushes back on his chest lightly with her hands. 

She sees blue eyes looking at her, worried and confused. He asks her what's wrong, but she can't tell him the truth. "I just...I can't Ron," she whispers instead. 

"What-is it me? I mean, I thought we were-" 

"We were..." she says softly, not wanting him to finish that question. He's talking about before-before he left and then came back. Before her feelings towards him started to change. 

"Then what's the matter?" 

"I just...can't."

X

_Day 27_

She's been avoiding Draco ever since Molly told him it was okay that he get up and about. Avoiding him because all he seems to want to do is get her alone, and she's afraid of what might happen should he succeed. The last time she was alone with him he asked her to kiss him-and, even worse, she obliged.  
>Looking back on it now, with him sitting purposely across the table from her, staring at her intently, perhaps hiding in the <em>library<em>, of all places, wasn't such a good idea after all. So, naturally, she pretends not to notice that he's watching her by staring carefully at her book. 

"You're avoiding me," he states. 

She looks up at him casually. "What makes you say that?" 

"Because until just then you haven't even looked at me," he points out. "And because the last time I saw you, I asked you to kiss me. Remember that?" he wonders, taunting her playfully. 

She can't help the blush from creeping up onto her cheeks and so, instead, she lifts her open book higher to hide it. She can practically _hear_ him smirk. 

"I was under the influence of some pretty powerful healing potions," he says, which stings her chest a little bit. "But I meant every word I said, and every action I did." 

Her breath catches in her throat-is he admitting what she thinks he's admitting. She's too afraid to look at him and so she stays hidden behind her book. 

"And I'd be more than willing to do it again." 

Moments later he leaves her alone in the library, in peace. And yet her mind-and body and heart-is far from being at peace.

X

**Eight**  
><em>November-Day 9<em>

The first thing she sees when her eyes flutter open is a grey ceiling. The first thing she hears is the clicking is shoes and hushed whispers. She groans inwardly, groggily, trying and failing to sit up. But as her eyes begin to adjust to the light, she gets a better look at her surroundings. Everything is grey, dark. Cold. The walls, the floor, the ceiling. 

Upon further inspection, she realizes that she's in Malfoy Manor. She remembers breaking into the Manor with the boys-the boys! Where are Harry and Ron? And Draco! 

She hears Bellatrix's voice, clear and menacing, above her. It gives her goose bumps of the worst kind and her breath gets caught in her throat. "Oh look, the Mudblood is awake." 

And then she hears Draco's voice, urgent and demanding. For a split second, relief washes over. And then she remembers that this is _not_ how this mission was supposed to play out. He's in just as much danger as she is right now. "Don't touch her!" 

"Now, nephew, why would I do that? I have far more...pleasurable things to do with her. But first, I have a few questions for her, girl-to-girl. You just be a good boy and watch," Bellatrix taunts, twirling her wand between her fingers. 

The growl that comes next comes straight from Draco's chest. "Aunt Bella I swear to-" 

"Lucius! Control your pathetic excuse for an heir!" the witch shrieks. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Draco struggle against his father, his hands tied behind his back, as the man drags him to a chair in the corner of the room. 

"Now, Granger, is it? What have you done to my nephew, hmm? Surely he can't actually be _fond_ of you, so you must have done something to him. What have you done?" 

"Nothing," Hermione croaks, her throat dry and scratchy. 

"Don't lie to me, Mudblood. If there's anything I hate more than Mudbloods, it's lying." 

"I haven't done anything to him," she repeats firmly. 

"Granger, shut up," Draco practically begs from across the room. 

"What are you trying to say, girl? That he fancies you of his own free will? Why would he go and do something like that?" 

"Perhaps he just isn't as disgusting as _you_." The strength in her voice shocks even herself. 

Bellatrix screams angrily, unintelligibly as she digs her dagger into her arm. Blinding pain sores through her arm and body. Her muscles are on fire, burning as she screams in agony. 

The last thing she sees before everything goes dark is Draco thrashing against the magical chains holding him to the chair.

X

_Day 17_

This time, when she opens her eyes, the first thing she sees is a warm, brown ceilings. The first thing she hears is what sounds like the ocean crashing against the shore. And unlike the hardness of the hardwood floor she laid upon last time, she feels the smooth comfort of a bed underneath her.  
>Despite being perfectly comfortable, she begins to panic when she doesn't recognize her surroundings. She tries to sit up, but fails because her body is just too heavy to move. When she sees a head of familiar black hair lying on the mattress at her hip, she begins to calm down. She smiles softly, brushing her fingers through his hair and he wakes up. <p>

Harry. He smiles, asking her how she feels and what she remembers. 

She makes a list before remembering Draco. "Draco...where is he? Is he alright?" she asks urgently, managing to push herself into a sitting position. "Please tell me-I have to go see him-" 

"Hermione, calm down. He's fine," Harry assures her, rubbing her arm up and down soothingly. 

"Where is he?" 

"He's fine." 

"Where is he? I want to see him," she insists. 

He sighs. "I can't promise that he'll even want to see you." 

"Where is he?" she asks again, firmly. 

She follows him down unfamiliar halls to another bedroom. Inside the room is Draco, standing at the window overlooking the ocean. A beautiful ocean of clear blue water and perfectly tanned sand. Harry stays outside, closing the door behind him. 

"You're okay," the blond notes, keeping his back turned to her. 

"I'm fine," she assures him softly. 

"Good." 

"Are you?" 

"Just dandy," he mutters. 

"Were you hurt?" 

He pauses, folding his arms across his chest before speaking evenly. "I don't want to see you anymore." 

She blinks, shocked. "W-what?" 

"I don't want to see you anymore," he replies sternly, finally turning to face her. He looks at her, but he isn't really looking _at_ her. "I'm relieved that you're okay, but I can't be involved with you anymore." 

She shakes her head, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. "I-If this is about what Bellatrix-" 

He flinches, visibly. "It isn't about what she said." 

She follows his gaze to her arm, to the red cuts that spell _Mudblood_ in her white skin, and frowns.

"Draco, it isn't your fault." 

"Like hell it isn't. The only reason she attacked you is because of me-" 

"-if that's the only reason you don't want to be friends-" 

"-it isn't a discussion, Granger," he snaps firmly, icily. "I will remain on your side, and I will fight this war. But I can't be your friend. And you can't be mine." 

Taken aback, hurt, and confused, Hermione spins on her heel and leaves the room, shrugging off a visibly worried Harry Potter on the way back to the room she came from.

X

**Nine**  
><em>December-Day 4<em>

Laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, Hermione reflects on the day's events. In a few days' time, she'll be going to Gringott's with Harry and Ron-disguised, of course-and attempting to break into Bellatrix's vault. They'd had a meeting today to talk about the horcruxes, and the fact that they're still missing three of them. After tossing ideas around for a little over an hour, A thought had occurred to her-Voldemort doesn't trust anyone but himself, but if he _did_ trust somebody else, who would that person be? The answer was really quite obvious: Bellatrix Lestrange. She is, after all, his longest serving and most loyal follower. And besides that, she remembers-albeit vaguely-hearing her yelling about her vault.  
>She, she'd decided in the meeting, would disguise herself as the witch. <p>

There's a soft knock on her door and she sits up, inviting the person in the other side in. She looks to the door as Draco walks in, his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers. 

They've barely spoken since he told her he didn't want to be friend anymore, and so the silence between them isn't as comfortable as it used to be. She looks at him curiously as he leans against her dresser. 

"So you're serious about this? About breaking into Bella's vault?" he asks softly. 

She nods. "I have to. It's the only way to get whatever horcrux might be hidden in there." 

He quirks a skeptical eyebrow. "And if there isn't one?" 

"Then at least we'll know," she replies, shrugging her shoulders. 

He nods, licking his lips. "You don't think it's too early? After..?" 

"I'm not afraid of her, Draco." 

"You have to be tough, Granger. Cruel. Vile. Your innocent little Gryffindorness will never cut it," he tells her calmly. 

"I know," she nods. 

"And under no circumstances can you take no for an answer." 

"I know." 

"And if it looks like you're losing control of the situation, retreat. Don't be a hero," he adds protectively. 

She smiles softly, tilting her head to the side slightly. "I know what I'm doing, Draco." 

He nods once, looking down at the floor awkwardly. "Right. Yeah. Just...be careful." He lifts his gaze once more, looking at her intently. "Come back in one piece." 

"Aww, is Draco Malfoy worried about me?" she teases carefully, giggling softly. 

He smirks, which is followed by an awkward silence and he moves back to the door. "I'd just hate to find someone else to pick on," he teases back.

X

_Day 18_

After returning from the vault mission and explaining to everyone what happened, Hermione goes straight to the washroom to take a shower ad freshen up. After spending days dressed and looking like Bellatrix Lestrange, a shower is long overdue. She feels dirty and disgusting… 

She's standing in front of the mirror, wrapped in nothing but a towel as she looks over her appearance. She touches her face softly, with the tips of her fingers. Never before has she been so happy to be back in her own skin. 

The sound of the bathroom door flying open and hitting the wall startles her and she jumps, spinning around to face an angrily looking Draco Malfoy. She's so shocked that it doesn't even register that she's nearly naked. 

"A _dragon_? Really? You decided it was perfectly safe to ride a _dragon_ to safety?" he snaps, glaring at her harshly. 

She blinks. "Wh-I'm a little busy for this, Draco-" 

"You could've been killed!" he shouts incredulously, ignoring her. 

"And we _would've_ been killed if we hadn't taken the dragon!" she argues. 

"You're completely missing the point, Granger-" 

"Look, Draco, I'm fine, okay? I'm safe, and I came back in one piece just like you told me to," she points out, gesturing to the fact that she's standing right in front of him. 

Silence falls over them, and he shifts uncomfortably as he finally realizes that she's hardly wearing anything. They stand awkwardly, as she clutches the towel around her torso, shifting from foot to foot.

His gaze shifts to everything else in the room to avoid looking at her. 

She sighs finally, breaking the silence. "I need to-" 

"Shower, right. I'll just..." he trails off, settling his gaze on her carefully. "I'm glad you're in one piece, Granger." 

"Of course you are, now you don't have to find someone else to pick on," she teases. 

He smirks, walking himself backwards as he pulls on the door. "Among other things."

X

_Day 25_

Stuffed with turkey and trimmings and high on Christmas cheer (and a little bit drunk on eggnog), Hermione retires to her room for bed. She changes into a pair of fresh pyjamas. Upon turning to crawl into bed, she finds a small red box sitting in the middle of her duvet. She knows exactly who it's from because he's the only one who didn't exchange a gift with anyone-although that's not to say that she didn't give him a gift herself. A smile smile graces her lips as she reaches forward, undoing the little white ribbon around it. She lifts the lid off of the box, gasping softly at what's inside: a silver bracelet with two charms on it. 

She pulls the bracelet out with care, inspecting it with awe. Each charm bares a symbol; one meaning bravery and one meaning intelligence. She smiles softly, rolling her eyes fondly as she sits on the edge of the bed. 

From the bottom of the box, she pulls out a note. She reads it carefully, tears gathering in her eyes. The note, written in his handwriting, describes that bravery and intelligence are two of the most important qualities in which he admires in her. The note ends with him labeling her his favourite Gryffindor.

X

**Ten**  
><em>January-Day 1<em>

She's spent the last few days since Christmas trying (and failing) to decipher what his words mean. Her only conclusion, however, is that Draco Malfoy is a puzzle. He flirts with her, day after day and week after week. And then he ignores her, wants almost nothing to do with her. And then he's giving her gifts and calling her his "favourite." 

She can't figure him out. She can't figure out what he wants-from her, or from anybody else. Hell, she can't even figure out what _she_ wants. 

Unable to sleep, and knowing that it'll be the New Year in just a couple short hours, Hermione walks down to the beach. It has yet snowed in this part of England, but the air is still cold and so she dresses warmly. She builds herself a small fire pit and conjures herself a fire and a log to sit on. 

She wonders, briefly, if she'll be able to see the fireworks from here at midnight. 

She doesn't hear the footsteps behind her until he's standing directly beside her. She looks up at him, smiles softly, and shifts to the edge of the log to give him enough room to sit down. 

He sits, leaning forward with his elbows in his knees. He, too, is dressed warmly-like a muggle at that. He looks good dressed in muggle clothes, she decides, peering at him out of the corner of her eye. 

"I like you, Granger," he murmurs, staring into the fire. 

She blinks, looking sideways at him in confusion. "I like you too-" 

"No, I mean... I _like_ you," he clarifies firmly, lifting his gaze to hers. He stares at her, his grey eyes soft and warm and oh-so-lovely. Truthful. 

She sucks in a deep breath, taken back. "I..." 

"I knew exactly what I was doing when I asked you to kiss me," he admits. "I was telling you the truth when I said I was more than willing to do it again." 

She blinks. "But-you-" 

"And I pushed you away because I was scared," he whispers, looking away again. "After what happened at my...at the Manor, and after what happened to you...I thought that if I pushed you away they'd be less likely to attack you in the future. It's not true, of course, because of they manage to get their hands on you..." he trails off uneasily. "But the truth is, Granger, no matter how much I *know* I should stay away from you...I can't. I don't want to. I... For months before I left, I was just...miserable, you know? I mean obviously you know... But I don't feel all that miserable anymore and it's because of you. Because of your smile and your laugh and-you talk to me like a human being, unlike everyone else in that house. And it's not even like you smile or laugh very often, but when you do the world is just a little bit better." 

She blinks rapidly, turning away from him awkwardly. She doesn't know what to say. His words rush through her mind, making her dizzy and nauseas and lightheaded. She can hear her hear beating in her ears, and despite the cold winter air, her hands are sweating. 

"You don't have to say anything, I just thought you should know," he murmurs, pushing himself to his feet. "If you want me to back off-" 

"I don't," she replies quickly, looking up at him. He looks back questioningly, hopefully. "I mean, I dunno what I _want_, but I know I don't want you to back off," she admits, pushing herself to her feet too. Her body is much closer to his than she had judged as she stood up. She can feel his heat, his nervousness, his passion. "I _like_ you too, I just...I dunno what to do about it." 

Suddenly his hand is holding her, brushing his thumb across the top of her hand. She looks down, watching the shapes his thumb makes on her skin. When she looks back up, his gaze is so intense that her hear literally skips several beats and her breath catches in her throat. 

"Kiss me," he whispers. 

"Draco-" 

"Or, at least, let _me_ kiss _you_." 

For the second time-ever-she kisses him. And she finds that she doesn't ever want to stop.

X

_Day 24_

She feels a hand wrap around her wrist, startling her as she gets pulled into an empty closer down the hall from her bedroom. It's dark inside, but it's warm. Her back is pressed against the door swiftly, just before a pair of very familiar lips collide with hers. His are firm, cold and chapped against hers. Experienced. 

She moans into his mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Her arms slip around his neck while one of his hands slips into her hair and the other slips around her waist, pulling her hips against him. 

They've been snogging in empty rooms for days now, keeping their...situation (relationship)a secret from the others in the house. 

"We have to go," she murmurs, her eyes closed nonetheless. 

"In a minute," he mutters back. 

"They'll come looking," she protests, although she continues to kiss him. 

"Let them-" 

"Draco," she breathes, pushing her hands against his chest gently. 

He groans loudly, pulling himself back. "Alright. Okay. You go out first."

X

_Day 30_

Hermione has never felt more perfectly content or safe than when she's in the arms of Draco Malfoy. And when she's snogging him, it's even better. 

"Where have you been all my life, Granger?" Draco murmurs against her lips, hovering over her with his arms tucked under pillow. 

"Right under your nose," she giggles, gazing up at him. They're in her bedroom, so immersed in one another that neither of them noticed the door opening. 

He smirks against her lips. "Mmm, and look where you are now. Right under me," he teases. 

Her satisfied giggle is cut short by the enraged voice of Ronald Weasley. They scramble away from either, Hermione adjusting the hem of her shirt as she sits up while Draco climbs off the bed and out of the way. 

"Ron..." she whispers, looking at him guiltily. 

"W-What-you...what the fuck, Hermione!" His voice is laced with disappointment and betrayal. 

"Ron, I'm sorry-" 

"You told me you weren't ready! You said you needed time, that you had to focus!" he shouts accusingly, shaking with rage and hatred. "So, what, have you been snogging _him_ this whole time?" 

She blinks, shaking her head as tears sting the backs of her eyes. "Ron-" 

"We were gonna be together, Hermione! We were-" 

"I know, I just..." 

"Just what? What did you _just_?" he wonders bitterly, sarcastically. 

"I don't know what happened, Ron-" 

"I'll tell you what happened. You became _his_ little play-thing," he spits, glaring daggers at her. His face is red, almost purple with anguish. 

"Oi! That was uncalled for," Draco protests loudly, taking a giant step forward only to have Hermione push him back. 

"Shut up, Malfoy. You're lucky I don't hex you back to that pathetic excuse for a home," Ron snaps. 

"I'm warning you, Weasley-" 

"Have you fucked her yet, Malfoy?" Ron asks bitterly, smirking angrily. "'Cause I'm warning _you_, she really knows how to play hard to get." 

Hermione's mouth drops open in shock and disbelief as Ron turns on his heel and stomps out of her room. Draco goes to follow him, fists clenched and face almost as red as Ron's hair, but she grabs his arm and pulls him back.

X

**Eleven**  
><em>February-Day 14<em>

Valentine's Day. 

Hermione never fancied herself a fan of Valentine's Day. And even now, with being in a...relationship with Draco, she still doesn't quite fancy herself a fan. Not right now, anyway. 

Note clutched in hand, Hermione follows a trail of rose pedals down the beach towards a casually dressed Draco standing in front of a picnic, laid out over the sand. She smiles at him, despite the sadness in her heart. 

He grins when he greets her, kissing her on the cheek. Taking her hands, he pulls her towards the blanket he's laid out for them. "So, what do you think?" 

"It's wonderful. Beautiful," she whispers, smiling softly. 

"You're beautiful," he whispers back. He lifts his right hand, brushing the backs of his knuckles across her cheek. She pulls away then, turning her face away from him and his brow furrows in confusion. "What's wrong?" 

She looks back him sadly and a tear trickles down her cheek. "I can't do this, Draco. I can't...we can't be together," she breathes, her voice barely audible. 

He blinks, taken back. "W-why? Is it Weasley?" 

She bites her lip, her gaze falling to the ground as she steps away from him. 

He scoffs. "Granger-" 

"He's been one of my best friends since I was 11 years old, Draco. I can't just...abandon him." 

"You haven't," he protests. "If anything, he's abandoned you by not speaking to you." 

"I hurt him-" 

"It's not your fault-" 

"Except that it is," she argues. "It's entirely my fault. I told him one thing and I went and did another. I told him I didn't want to be with him because I wasn't ready for a relationship and then I went and... I lied to him. _I_ hurt him. I can't watch him suffer-" 

"So you'll let yourself suffer," he mutters. 

"He's my _friend_, Draco," she whispers brokenly. It's breaking her heart, doing this to him. But she has to. "I'm sorry."

X

_Day 27_

After walking along the beach for a couple of hours, Hermione walks back inside the cottage and toward the stairs. She's hardly spoken to anyone lately. She's been avoiding Draco since leaving him on the beach. 

She stops, however, when she hear voices from inside the kitchen. She creeps towards the entrance, leaning against the wall as she listens for the voices again. 

Draco and Ron. She can't see them, and she doesn't try to, just in case they see her too. So she just listens. 

"I don't know why you blame me, Malfoy. I didn't _make_ her break up with you." 

"We both know you had more to do with it than anything. She broke up with me for you, and you still won't talk to her." 

"I'm not ready-" 

"Oh come off it, Weasley! You're punishing her! Get over yourself for once in your life. She's miserable. You've been ignoring her for a month and it's breaking her heart-" 

"I highly doubt _I'm_ the cause of her broken heart. Her heart was just fine without me before-" 

"Stop being so bloody selfish." 

"Me, being selfish? You're the selfish one-the only reason you want me to stop being mad at her is so that she'll take you back." 

"I want you to stop being mad at her because she didn't do anything wrong. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt you." 

Pause. She chews on her bottom lip in anticipation. Draco's the first to break the silence. 

"Besides, she already chose you, over me, anyway." 

"Yeah? And when was that?" 

"When she left me on Valentine's Day. I had a romantic evening planned, with all that girly crap stuff and all she could think about was you. And how miserable you've been since you found out, and how angry you are with her. She chose you because you've been one of her best friends for seven years. She's put her happiness-what little of it she's managed to find-on the side for you, so the least you can do is forgive her. You're taking advantage of her, Weasley, and I swear on Merin's grave if you continue to hurt her, I will give you unimaginable pain." 

A hesitated scoff follows, and Hermione can't help the smile that tugs on her lips.

X

**Twelve**  
><em>March-Day 1<em>

Hermione has never been more nervous or completely terrified in her entire life. Nor has she ever been more, well, excited. She looks around her room one last time, ensuring that everything is perfectly in place. Rose pedals here, candles there. Satisfied, she claps her hands once in front of her chest, smiling to herself. 

There's a knock on her door and she knows exactly who it is. Her heart skips several beats as she takes a deep breath and tells him to come in. 

"Hey, Granger," Draco greets her as he pushes the door open, looking down at his feet. "Potter said you wanted to talk..." he trails off as he lifts his gaze, shocked at the current state of her room. It looks like St. Valentine threw up. "Hi..." 

"Hey," she whispers, smiling shyly as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She moved forward, then, to close the door behind him. 

He swallows, gulping down the lump in his throat. "What's-" 

"I wanted to apologize," she interrupts, walking around to stand in front of him. "And I know that Valentine's Day is over, but I was hoping we could do it over-without, you know-" 

"Without you leaving me on the beach?" he smirks playfully. 

She giggles softly. "Exactly." 

He grins, curling his arm around her waist and pulling her into him as he murmurs, "c'mere." 

And then his lips are on hers and she's standing on her toes and her knees are weak. And nothing else matters.

X

**Day 16**

"Draco?" she whispers, curled up against his side with her head resting on his chest. 

They're lying in his bed, his arms wrapped securely and protectively around her, holding to him. These are some of her favourite moments 

"Hmm?" he murmurs, tilting his head to rest his chin against the top of hers. 

"Are you scared?" 

He doesn't answer straight away, glancing down at her for a moment before looking up at the ceiling.

"Are you?" 

She nods against his chest. "I'm terrified." 

"I think we'd have to be mad, not to be scared." 

"I can't wait for this to be over. To find my parents, to...to move on," she whispers. 

"Me too," he breathes. 

Silence falls between them as she listens to the sound of his heart beating in his chest, and memorizes the feeling of his chest rising and falling. 

In just a few days they'll all be away from here-from security and safety. They'll be back at Hogwarts-where is _used_ to be the safest place she knew, and they'll be fighting. There's only two more horcruxes left, both of which they'll find at Hogwarts. 

In just a few days' time, the world as she knows it, will be gone forever. 

"I need to take a shower," she says softly, trying to push herself up. 

"No you don't," he protests, tightening his grip around her waist. 

"Yes I do." 

"No you don't." 

"Yes I do," she giggles, wrestling herself free and jumping off the bed. 

He pouts childishly, rolling on his back and crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine. Leave me all alone. All by myself. Cold and lonely-" 

"Then join me, you big baby," she tells him. 

He blinks, pushing himself into a sitting position as he looks at her from across the room. He stares at her, looking for any sort of reaction or action. 

She smiles mischievously, cocking her head to the side. "Join me." 

"Granger-" 

"Please join me?" 

He continues to stare at her, hesitant. "Y-You're sure?" 

She nods seductively, walking backwards towards the door and he jumps out of the bed and nearly tackles her, chasing her into the bathroom.

X

_Day 19_

She's never ran so fast in her entire life, she reckons. Not even when she was running for her life. 

She's racing through the dark, empty corridors to find Draco, who at the very moment, is missing. Voldemort has called a sort of temporary truce to tend to their wounded, and to the dead, with honour. And while everyone else has retreated back to the Great Hall, Draco had failed to show up. After waiting for him for ten minutes, she'd taken off in search of him. She's been running ever since. 

She gasps, skidding to a halt suddenly. Bellatrix is standing in front of her, smiling tauntingly at her. 

"Well, well, well. We meet again, Mudblood," the faithful Death Eater drawls, twirling her hair around her wand. 

"Bellatrix," Hermione acknowledges as casually as she can muster. 

"How's your arm, dear girl?" 

"Just fine, thank you." 

"And my nephew? Are you still brainwashing him?" the older witch wonders bitterly. 

"The only people who have been brainwashing him are his family," Hermione replies strongly. 

Bellatrix snarls. "I should kill you, right here, where you stand," she spits, pointing her wand at

Hermione's head. It's just a shame that Draco won't be able to see it." 

"You will do no such thing, Bella," Draco's familiar voice speaks from behind her. Hermione breathes a sigh of relief, her gaze shifting only slightly as he walks past her, shielding her from his aunt. 

"Ah, Draco. I knew you couldn't have been far, what with you following the Mudblood around like a lost puppy," Bellatrix taunts. "It's sick, this disgusting fascination you have with her. I have half a mind to kill you _both_. However I'm sure that I could talk the Dark Lord into forgiving you, for a price." 

"That is a price I cannot, and will not, pay Aunt Bella," Draco replies sternly, squaring his shoulders confidently. "I don't want, nor need, his forgiveness. I've made my choice." 

"Pity. I was rather fond of you, nephew," his aunt mutters, hardening her gaze as well as the grip on her wand. She points it straight at him. 

"Don't do it, Bella. Lower your wand." He isn't an Order member talking to a Death Eater, as one might guess. He's a boy talking to his aunt. 

"You wouldn't kill me, boy. Don't be silly." 

"I will if I have to," he warns her. 

"You'll kill your own flesh and blood for some Mudblood bitch, Draco?" 

"I'll do whatever I have to do to protect her, yes. I'll do whatever I have to do to *survive*-you taught me that, remember?" 

Second later, Bellatrix is lying lifeless in the middle of the corridor. She'd brought her wand back as though to throw a curse at him, but Draco had been quicker. 

He stares for a moment, in awe of his own actions. His body is tense, rigid. Both of his hands are balled into fists, and she can practically hear his heart pounding in his chest. 

"Draco," she whispers, touching his shoulder carefully. 

Her touch pulls him out of his thoughts. "C'mon, let's get out of here," he mutters, slipping his fingers around her hand as he pulls her down the corridor, past his aunt's body. 

"Are you okay?" she asks softly, looking up at him curiously. Worriedly. 

"I thought I told you not to be a hero."

X

_Day 27_

The wind blows her hair back as she walks up the cottage porch steps. She pulls her jacket tighter around her torso before pulling the screen door open and pushing the larger door forward. While everyone had else had packed up their things and gone home, just days after Harry killed Voldemort, Hermione and Draco had gone back to Shell Cottage. He didn't have a home to go back to, and she just didn't want to go home without her parents there. And while they haven't made any solid decisions as to where they'll go from here-in their lives or their relationship-Hermione finds herself perfectly content knowing that he's here. 

She walks into the living room to find Draco standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by a number of suitcases. She looks at him questioningly, frozen to the floor. 

He grins mischievously. "Hey." 

"Hi...what are you doing? What's with the bags?" She wonders skeptically. 

"I'm leaving." 

She blinks, taken aback. Her heart skips a bit and for a second she wants to cry. "You-what..." she trails off, losing her voice. 

"And you're coming with me," he grins. 

"I don't..." 

His grin softens slightly into a smile as he closes the gap between them, pulling her body flush against him. He presses his forehead against hers and gazes into her eyes. "We're going to find your parents. And we're going to restore their memories and-" 

She kisses him. And when she pulls back here's staring at her in a sort of awe-like daze. He looks at her like he loves her. She smiles softly, tears shining in her eyes. "I love you," she whispers.


End file.
